Page 76 of Under My Skin
She glances at my father who holds Pudge in his arms. As soon as I left Copper Ridge Tattoo Co. I went back to Simon’s apartment to get Pudge and my things. There’s no way I’m getting in the middle of Simon and Everett tonight.
“And Simon knows you’re staying here?” my father asks, his expression mirroring my mother’s.
“Nope.”
They glance at each other, having one of their silent conversations. It’s good to know the divorce hasn’t made them any less synced.
“Did something happen? Do you want to talk about it?” My mother pets Pudge in my father’s arms before settling her anxious gaze back on me.
I scoff. She can’t be serious. “Oh, are we talking about things now?” I stand with my clothes in hand, my eyes narrowing. “Shouldn’t one of you have moved out by now? Why are you both here?”
My dad practically winces. “I’ve been staying in the guest bedroom.”
“Thank God for that,” I mutter.
“Hey,” my mother scolds. “No need to be rude.”
I raise my eyebrows and hold a hand to my chest. “Me, rude?” I shake my head. “What’s rude is acting like there’s nothing going on when there’s definitely something going on. Rude is acting like nothing will change when we all know this divorce will change everything. Rude is not bothering to eventellme about it.” I hold an outstretched arm. “I had to find out from Simon of all people, and he thought I already knew! And you know what? I should have known! You should have told me. You should own up to whatever this is instead of acting like it’s not happening. Simon might be fine with not understanding why you’re doing this, but I’m not.”
They keep their eyes locked on me, but all I get in response are almost identical looks of sympathy.
“Help me understand,” I practically beg, my eyes jumping back and forth between them.
My mother looks up at my dad, but no words leave her parted lips. He gives a slight shake of his head, but neither of them offers me anything.
A bitter laugh escapes me. “Right. That’s fine. Keep your secrets, but don’t ask me if I want to talk about what’s going on. At least my shit doesn’t impact the whole family.”
I’m not sure how much I believe my last statement. My situation definitely impacts Simon, and I guess it impacts my parents by me being here, but I’m not about to backtrack now.
My mother’s lips press into a thin line, but her voice still carries patience with every syllable. “Honey, if something happened between you and Simon?—”
“Nothing happened. We’re fine.” I cross my arms and arch an eyebrow. Let them see how it feels to be on the receiving end of blatant lies. With a sigh, my shoulders drop. “I’m tired,” I say, eventhough it’s only partially true. Mentally, I’m exhausted, but my body feels wired. It feels like I should go for a run, but I can’t remember the last time I did something like that. Walking toward them, I say, “Good night,” before slowly closing the door on them. Part of me wanted to slam it in their faces, but that would hit too close to my teenage years.
I don’t even think my hand leaves the handle before I yank the door open again. “Give me my cat.” I reach for Pudge from my father’s arms, and he has the audacity to meow in protest, the little traitor.
I shut the door again, this time a little harder. I don’t know what it is about being back in my childhood bedroom under my parents’ roof, but it somehow makes me feel younger and way too old for this at the same time.
Walking over to my daybed, I gently set down Pudge before taking a hard seat beside him. The clothes I planned on changing into are still in my hand, and I pull off a small tuft of cream-colored fur from my black leggings. I should change and go to sleep, but I set down the clothes on my bed and get to my feet. When I finished cleaning out my room earlier, all I cared about was getting out of here. I didn’t stop long enough to take in the scene, but it’s kind of depressing. I spent my entire life in this room. Most of my memories tied to this house are more specifically tied to this room. All the times I had sleepovers with friends. All the heart-to-heart talks with my mom. Even memories of Everett and my brother were shaped by these four walls. I’d peek my head out the door to see what they were doing on the other end of the hall. Simon would never want me to hang around, but I was nosy. I always wanted to catch a glimpse of what they were doing, which was usually video games.
My phone lights up on the bed next to me, and Everett’s name sends a jolt through me. I wonder where he and Simon left off. If they’ve worked everything out, maybe I can go back to the apartment. Maybe I don’t need to wake up in my empty childhoodbedroom and be a spectator to my parents’ bizarre living arrangement.
Everett:
Are you okay?
It’s such a simple question, but it feels loaded. No, I’m not okay. I don’t want to be in this room. I don’t want to go home. I can’t go to my brother’s apartment. I’m stuck in limbo without answers from my parents and without knowing what happened between him and Simon after I left.
Before I can think of what to say, a call comes in. Allison’s name appears on the screen.
“What’s wrong?” I immediately say. She usually texts to see if I’m free before calling.
She nervously laughs into the phone. “Is it that obvious?”
“Did something happen with the apartment?”
“Well.” She takes a breath. “Maybe.”
“Allison, what happened?”
